Would Yall Feel Betrayed If I Ever Wrote About Other Scream Characters/ghostfaces ?? Bc Ive Been Rewatching

would y’all feel betrayed if i ever wrote about other scream characters/ghostfaces ?? bc ive been rewatching some of the movies and scream VI was so good and it has me thinking lol

but billy and stu will always be the number one boyfriends on this blog trust!!

Final Girl - Part 8

Series Masterlist (updated chapters 1 -9 and extras) Final Girl Masterlist

A/N this took awhile,, but i always want to put my best foot forward bc of how much this series means to me, which means i work when i’m in the right headspace for it and have the time to invest,, which hasn’t been lining up too much recently 😭 anyways i see all the supportive comments and appreciate them sm!!

also keep in mind that my priority is not the timeline, like if you’re feeling like the month before halloween is the longest month of all time,, it’s bc i want to give them bonding time before the heavy murder stuff! 

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at the Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s/

Chapter Summary: Y/n tries to get back to normal and work on her friendships, but there’s nothing normal about surviving a serial killer attack, and it’s no one’s fault her friends keep noticing. She’s navigating the start of dealing with her trauma while also trying to be a good friend, especially since Billy hasn’t been feeling like himself lately. In a desperate attempt to feel like a normal, healthy teenager, Y/n crosses a personal boundary. 

----

My mom has often told me that in many ways, I was born as an old lady. 

She’d always say it after I tried being responsible. Suggesting that she give herself a curfew on weeknights, or at the very least, call if she was going to be late. Reminding her that there’s a reason people gave her the side eye when she took a visibly underage me into R-rated movies. 

Now that I’m older, I guess she was right in a lot of ways. I wasn’t the kid-iest kid, if that makes sense, but there was one thing I was always good at: playing dress up. 

With a mom like Gloria, it would have been hard not to. For years, my mom’s closet basically had the same magical properties as Disneyland. I thought that that mindset might have just been nine-year-old me, but apparently not, because Tatum and Sidney have been looking through it like it’s life changing. 

“Okay.” Tatum picks up one of my mom’s shimmery wrap and tosses it over her shoulder. “It’s official, when I die, I want to be buried here.”

I look over in time to watch her observe herself in the mirror. “Then I hope you live for a very long time.” 

She wrinkles her nose.  “That better not be the only reason.” 

“Course not, you know I love you very much, Tate-a-boo.” I make a quick kiss-y face, and Tatum almost giggles before returning the gesture. 

Turning away from my mom’s dresses, Sidney smiles. “Please, for all our sakes, don’t let Stu hear you say that.” 

After the joke settles, I practically snort. “Good point.” I step a little further into the closet, refocusing my attention. The only reason we’re all in here is because I wanted to borrow a pair of shoes before going out to the nail salon. It was Tatum’s idea, and the state of my cuticles made me agree. My social hibernation has not been good to them. “Okay, these are the shoes.” 

Sidney steps out of the closet to give me the space to do the same. I slip on the shoes, happy with how they look with my outfit and their level of comfortableness. My mom rarely buys any shoes for herself that aren’t heels, so she ends up taking anything that’s remotely comfortable from my closet. 

“I want to stay here.” Tatum’s hand brushes against the sleeve of something cashmere. “Maybe forever.” 

“And leave your nail beds like that?” Sid glances away from the full length mirror that’s right outside of my mom’s closet. She turns her attention to her reflection, adjusting the fluffiness of her always, almost magically perfect bangs.

Tatum halfheartedly glares before stepping out of the closet. “You’re such a liar.” She raises a hand, studying her palm while walking out of the closet. “You told me they looked fine yesterday.”

Sidney almost smiles before throwing me a look. A quick raise of eyebrows that seems to say got her. “We’re gonna be late.” 

----

The first nail appointment after awhile always feels like willingly volunteering to get a bunch of paper cuts. It’s not overwhelming painful, just a little irritating. After feels nice, though, now that my nails look fresh and I know I don’t have to worry about having my cuticles professionally gutted for a little bit. 

And being around Sidney and Tatum is nice. Familiar in a way that’s still new. It’s weird in a good way. Like I could start throwing around cheesy terms like BFF and it wouldn’t even be dumb. It’d still be ironic, but I think they’d get the sentiment. It’s not that I’ve never had good friends, but this is different. A little more open.

Like right now we’re in Sidney’s room and we’re not talking about anything in particular, just going off of whatever comes up. I could probably say the dumbest thing in the world right now and it wouldn’t even feel unfitting or awkward. 

“...Shut up, he was not that bad.” Tatum’s trying to sound more upset than she is. Somehow Sidney found a way to tell me about Tatum’s first boyfriend. A total middle school romance--they even went to the 8th grade dance together and held hands and had their first kiss under the bleachers. Sounds cute enough, but according to Sidney he was a total weirdo. Even by 8th grade boy standards. “He wasn’t.” 

Sidney laughs again, the movement has her arm bumping into mine. “He tried to eat a live lizard because Stu dared him.” 

“No way.” I snort. “Your first kiss was with a lizard eater?” 

Tate sighs, dropping her head against the side of the mattress and crossing her legs on the floor. “Tried. It ran away and no one ever found it.” That’s still objectively hilarious. I can’t picture Tatum with anyone that out there, but then again, she is with Stu. 

Not that he reminds me of an 8th grade boy trying to eat a lizard, but he was the one that came up with the idea. “Maybe Stu ate it.” 

Tatum glares, halfheartedly shoving my leg as Sidney clasps a hand over her mouth to avoid laughing too hard. “I’ll ask him.” 

It’s strange to picture them like that. A little younger, growing up together. “So you guys knew each other back then and now...” 

She shrugs, “I don’t know...it just kind of happened. He was always hooking up with or seeing any girl with a pulse and I didn’t even see him like that until after--” She cuts herself off with no warning. “You know Sidney and Billy have a way nicer getting together story.” Tate snaps her head up to look at Sidney, whose expression immediately shifts. “Right, Sid?” 

Sidney’s eyes briefly meet mine. There’s a bit of uneasiness there that I don’t get. What could the end of Tatum’s thought have been? What could she have been about to say that might have been--oh. 

“Yeah,” she agrees, “Billy and I were hanging out for weeks--” 

“You can say her name.” My throat feels drier than it did a second ago. “I won’t freak out if you mention Casey. Promise.” 

Tatum’s eyes briefly shut. “That’s--” She doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. I’m right. Why wouldn’t she think I’d freak out? After the way I acted at that party. “No one would blame you if you did.” 

It’s easy to say that it doesn’t matter when you’re not the one that has melt downs. “Yeah.” 

There’s a brief stretch of awkward silence, the light mood now tainted by the exact thing that’s kept me away from my friends for so long. Maybe keeping to myself was about more than the safety of others--maybe I don’t want anyone to know what I’m like now. 

“It’d be weirder if you weren’t a little messed up about it.” Tatum hums the words with such casualness I can’t help but laugh, even when Sidney snaps her head to the side to give her a seriously look. “I’m serious, only a total psycho would be able to see that and jump back into things.” 

Sidney sits up a little more, “And you took the SAT a week after it all happened. You’re doing a lot better than most people would be doing.” 

I nod, glad that they’re at least good at pretending that I’m not a total mess. “Yeah, guess I’m just sensitive about it because I freaked out on Noel at that party.” Ugh. That’s been something I’ve been trying really hard to forget. “He probably thinks I’m a total freak.” My eyes squeeze shut at the memory of the party. I had been a total mess. I flip flopped on murder accusations like it was nothing and nearly ran to Casey’s house in the middle of the night. “He’s probably told everyone I’m a total freak.” 

“You don’t know that.” Sidney’s nice for trying to comfort me, but it’s not the best argument. She picks up on my expression because she then immediately tacks on, “Okay, let’s be logical--why would he do that?” 

“Why wouldn’t he after the way I acted?” Ugh. Every guy that knows him is going to think I’m a complete weirdo. This is what I get for trying to date. “And it’s not like he called after. He hasn’t even talked to me in class since.” 

Sidney’s eyebrows draw together briefly before her hands move off of her lap and land on her comforter. She pushes herself to stand. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” 

“Noel’s a total scrub. You’re better off.” Tatum stands too, scratching the back of her arm once. She approaches the bag she abandoned near Sidney’s door, “I brought that eyeshadow I was telling you about. The sparkly, blue one that makes everyone look like Baby Spice.” 

She exhales what’s almost a laugh and I find myself not being able to answer. That does sound like something I’d normally happily go along with. Even though Tatum tends to go for a more subtle look on the day to day, she has a solid makeup collection. Lots of trendy shimmers and bright colors that are fun to swatch and mess around with. But there’s something about the way she said it...breezed away from one topic to this.

And the way Sidney just got up like she was hoping that’d change something. I sit up a little straighter, trying to remember what it’s like to not feel paranoid all the time.

Sidney stops adjusting her hair and messing with her bangs in the mirror. “Or we could hold off on that and go to the video store.” Another change to a topic that normally I’d be all over. “I think Randy’s working, we could bug him a little and get something to watch later.” 

Okay, another thing I’d normally want to do. It has been a minute since I’ve gotten to annoy Randy, and the itch is definitely there. Maybe they’re just trying to be good friends and cheer me up, but they’re spitting out suggestions in a way that feels like they’re really hoping one will stick.

 “Are--do you guys know something about something?” Ugh. If this is my paranoia acting up, I’ll never recover. Why can’t I just go along with things? “I don’t know if it’s me and my head, but you’re acting kinda weird.” 

“No, we’re just--” Sidney’s eyes don’t stay on me, they shift over to Tatum for the briefest second. I blink and almost convince myself I’ve imagined it. “You’re not crazy, we just don’t want to stress you out.” 

I push myself onto my feet. “That is the worst thing you can say to someone you don’t want to stress out.”

Sidney’s eyebrows draw together like she’s worried. I almost feel bad for pushing. “Noel not talking to you isn’t an accident or your fault.” 

“Sid.” I snap my head in Tatum’s direction. She hesitates beneath my stare and gives in with a sigh, “Okay, Noel’s a player who brags about crushing girls’ virginities and breaking up with them the next day. He talks about every girl he’s dated like they’re some kind of car and there are even worse things written about him in the handicap stall of the second floor bathroom.” Tatum pauses, considering how she’s going to word what actually happened. “You’re going through a lot right now and that’s the last thing you need, and we were worried about you, so we talked to Stu and Billy and basically...got Noel to back off.” 

Oh my god. The embarrassment, anger, and shock are all fighting for dominance in my mind, but none of them overpower the other so the feeling is just really fucking bad. All I can picture is Billy and Stu talking to Noel like I’m some little kid or someone with brain damage that can’t make their own choices. 

“You guys suck!” I wipe at my face with the back of my hand, exhaustion cutting into my irritation. “Like really suck. I’m not some child that can’t make her own decisions.” Ugh--I can’t even decide how to react. “It’s not like I was going to marry him or anything.” 

Tatum watches me with a certain level of uncertainty. I don’t think I’ve ever snapped at her or Sidney before. “You’re not exactly a casual dater.” 

“Well--I-I could have been.” It feels awkward, almost reluctant, and I hate myself for it. She’s technically right. I’ve never casually dated, but I’ve never seriously dated either, so it probably wouldn’t kill me. “Either way, it might have been a mistake, but it was my mistake to make.”

“I know, Y/n,” Sidney breathes the words slowly, “We didn’t mean anything by it, it wasn’t like a whole scheme or anything it just--” She’s trying, really trying. “We wanted to help you.” 

I didn’t need help, I was fine. The genuine hint of worry in her tone keeps me from pointing that out. I just stare at her and then at Tatum. Why does it matter anyways? Everyone gets to be normal and do dumb things and have people they’re close with and relationships and all I have is the stupid ‘almost murdered’ label. 

“Why does it matter enough for you to--” I cut myself off, not sure what I’m really asking or what I mean. 

Tatum lets out a small sigh, the sound almost reluctant, maybe a tiny bit annoyed that she even has to talk about this. “Because you’re our friend,” she half shrugs like what she’s saying should have been assumed , “And we love you.” She presses her lips together briefly, “Duh.” 

Sidney throws a look in Tatum’s direction, “Yeah, we love you so much we were willing to risk you being super mad at us because we were worried.” Sidney pauses to take a breath. “We shouldn’t have done it behind your back, and in the future we won’t meddle.”

When I don’t ease, Tatum tacts on, “If it makes things any better, Stu’s normally a total guy’s guy about this kind of thing and even he thinks Noel’s a total creep.” She scratches the back of her wrist, “And those two never care about this stuff, so, boohoo, we all love you.” 

Okay, that doesn’t exactly fix things but it does take the edge off just a tiny bit. They all go way back, and that’s intimidating. And Tatum’s trying to be funny about it, layering on the sarcasm so that I’ll laugh. I hate that it’s almost working. “Well, as long as it’s just everyone being obsessed with me...” The joke feels like a bit of a betrayal, so I tact on something else, “I’m still mad, though.” That feels even weaker. I’m too in my head about all of it and still pretty embarrassed despite the fact that I didn’t do anything. It won’t last forever, but right now, it’s all feeling like too much. The safety of my bedroom feels miles away instead of the few blocks it actually is. “I think I-I’m gonna...” 

“No,” Tatum huffs, “It wasn’t supposed to be a thing.” She tilts her head to the side, silky blonde hair bouncing with the motion. “We haven’t seen you in forever and it was more Stu and Billy’s thing, they’ve been ready to start a thing with him since like the 9th grade.” 

More Stu and Billy’s thing? That almost makes sense for Billy, who Noel casually suggested could be a murderer. But Stu? Noel seemed to like him well enough. Maybe it’s a loyalty thing. I can see Billy and Stu having a bit of package deal friendship. You can’t hate on one without becoming enemy of the other. And with how generally protective Stu seems to be over his friends, it’d make sense. 

But still. I am not a bargaining chip or an excuse or someone that needs their approval on who I do or don’t date.

“Let’s do whatever you want to do and then if you’re still mad, we can invite them over and you can yell at them.” 

Tatum almost smiles, “You’re good at that.” 

That...feels a little weird. “I’m good at yelling?” 

“No, it’s like when you told off that reporter. One minute, you’re normal, but then, when you need to be--bam! You’re super bitch.” 

I laugh, this time it’s genuine. “Super bitch strikes again.” The exit is still close, and some nervous part of me wants to cling to the out. I’m not sure if it’s out of some form of fear or genuine anger or both. But I do want to stay around them a little longer and go take way too long renting a video just to annoy Randy. “If I get to pick what we do, I say we go bother Randy and get a movie. He’s had it easy for too long.” 

Sid half scoffs at my ominous tone. “How do you know?” 

"Knowing whether or not Randy needs to be annoyed is my superpower.” 

----

The video rental is surprisingly empty for early Thursday evening. Schools are out and it’s close enough to the weekend where normally there are more people stopping by to check out what they want to watch in advance. Today doesn’t reflect that. Good to know that my Randy distress radar is still in tact. 

There’s an older man adjusting the latest release aisle, changing out movies. He’s the only employee that I see as I scan over the store and a part of me nearly deflates. Sidney did say she thought Randy would be working and I have no way of knowing. Our friendship has also been a victim to my recent hermit ways, and it’s likely suffered more than my connection with anyone else. At least my other friends are in a couple of my classes or need to walk down the same hallways. Most of Randy’s classes aren’t near mine and we only share a study hall, which he often uses as an excuse to leave early in order to get to work. Meaning that most days I only see him during lunch. 

The door to the back swings open and behind a cart of VHS tapes, there’s a familiar face. Randy. I find myself smiling as I approach the counter he’s coming up from behind. 

“Excuse me,” he glances up, a bit of surprise causing him to raise his eyebrows, “I was wondering if you have a copy of Child’s Play 2, but not the original, the extended cut with the alternate ending, Sorority House Massacre, uncut, duh, and/or Fox’s original version of Clueless.” 

Randy blinks, unfazed by my bullshit. “I’ve been around you too long to fall for that last one.” 

I almost laugh. I can’t believe Randy remembers my rant about the developmental nightmare that was the original Clueless pitch. Fox wanted a TV show, but they got a movie instead, and that took way too long for no reason. I had talked about it a lot longer than I meant to the other day at school. “You caught it.” 

“Decoys are always more obvious than they seem to the person making them.” It feels like some kind of movie rule reference, vague enough for me to get how it applies but not so random I feel the need to ask. “So are you here to rent something or make my job harder?” 

“A little of both.” Turning my head, I gesture to where Sidney and Tatum are. They’re in the same aisle, backs to each other as they scan through options. “We wanted something to watch and Sidney said she thought you’d be working today.” I tap my nails against the counter. “And I had this feeling that things have probably been too easy for you.”

Randy’s lips turn upwards but it feels a little different than a smile. “Yeah, nothing but peace since you...” 

“Became a total paranoid PTSD recluse?” 

He half shrugs, “Jack Torrence.” I roll my eyes, a little relieved that Randy’s joking about it instead of pressing. It’s part of the reason he’s a good friend to have. “You’re feeling better, though, right?” 

Spoke a little too soon, but that’s an okay question. It’s not invasive, it’s just an offer. “Getting there.” 

Randy nods, taking in the answer for what feels like a little too long for two words. Maybe he’s feeling the honesty of what does seem like a cop out answer. I’m not over it by any means, but feeling better is a process that’s starting to work. “That’s good.” He pushes the cart slightly before pulling back to place. “You’re good.” Randy lets out a breath, tugging and pushing the cart again. “I mean--deserve to feel good and normal.” 

I grin at the stumble in words. It’s rare that we’re openly nice to each other instead of acting like little kids after one pulls the other’s hair. “I get what you mean.” 

His lips part, but no words come out. Randy’s eyebrows draw together as his mouth shuts. What is--a firm touch on my shoulder snaps the question out of me. My head turns and some kind of comment about being rude to people in line rises and immediately falls back down. Stu! And then I remember my earlier conversation and it feels a lot more like: Oh. Stu. 

It’s such an instant flip that for a second I don’t react. Stu pulls his arm around me in a quick attempt at a side hug, but I’m so stiff it’s more like being shoved into him. “Look who’s here.” 

Bumping into him is by no means new to me. Small town, same friends, some overlap in hobbies. But this time it’s different. I promised myself that Stu and Billy would get scolded for meddling as soon as possible, but I didn’t expect run into him in public. It’s like being a parent with a child that’s misbehaving in church. You can’t do anything but redirect until you get to the car. 

Stu drops his arm back to his side. “Thought you were doing something with Tatum and Sid?” 

“They’re over there,” I gesture vaguely with a tilt of my head, trying to seem casual. I might not be willing to get into the whole Noel thing in front of Randy and the suburban mom trying to settle a dispute between two kids who can’t decide which movie to get, but Stu probably is. “I wouldn’t look too closely, girls’ night movies might make you sick.” 

Stu misses by just a second. He does wrinkle his nose in a display of the kind of good humor I’d expect from him, but it doesn’t feel as natural. There’s nothing wrong about his reaction, it just feels lacking. Missing his usual brand of energy. “I have no issue with girls’ night movies.” 

Clearly, I’ve been spending too much time with him because I get the joke instantly. Now it’s my turn to cringe. “Why do I even talk to you?” 

“Because, buggsie, your life would be so boring without me.” The nickname does make my expression warp, but this time it’s more like trying to keep in a laugh than anything else. “If your only movie influence was Randy, you’d be a lot less likable.” 

Randy sighs. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The words are just a little too sharp. They’re good enough friends in some senses. Not two I’d guess hang alone together, but I like to think at the end of the day they like co-existing. That doesn’t mean they don’t bicker from time to time in a way that feels different than when Randy and I fight like little kids or Stu and I fight like an old married couple too lazy to get divorced. 

“No need to be bitter, dude,” Stu’s hand is back around my shoulder, “I gave you a whole five minutes.” That was a weird thing to say. Random, and not in a fun sort of way, but before I can ask, Stu’s pulling me forward. “You want to help me sneak up on Tay?” 

I throw Randy a look that hopefully communicates my level of confusion and some sort of see you later. “Uh...” Stu’s already turning like I’ve answered, “Sure?” 

When we’re finally closer to the shelves than the counter, Stu lets me go, his hand sliding down my arm a little before retracting. “So you go up to Tatum, talk to her, keep her distracted, and I’ll sneak up behind her.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He’s moving along so quickly and casually, but I’m still fixed on that last comment to Randy. It wasn’t banter-y and Randy didn’t say anything back, which feels a little weird. “That last thing you said, the five minute thing?”

Stu barely pauses, head tilting in a way that feels confused. “Oh. Gave him five minutes to make a move, but you know Randy, not a closer.”

It’s said casually enough that I could think Stu’s being serious, but there’s also a hum of sarcasm in there. And what he’s saying does feel too unrealistic to not be a joke. Randy and I are completely platonic, there’s no way he sees me like that. Plus, I’d like to think that if a guy I’m around that regularly liked me in any sort of way, I’d have at least somewhat picked up on it. 

“Shut up,” I shove Stu’s arm, “You’re not funny.”

He holds his hands up in defense briefly. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

It’s said casual enough that I’m finally given a second to think. The nagging voice at the back of my head is finally given the opportunity to remind me that I’m supposed to be mad at him. Or, at the very least, irritated until I can tell him off for trying to make decisions for me behind my back. 

“Interesting that you mention shooting you, be--” 

“Ouch,” Stu hums, a little too pointedly, “Thought we were all good, angel.” I press my lips together, staring at the ground to avoid giving him anything to latch onto. “I’ve been on best behavior. Minding my business, just here to check something out.”

I stop, a motion I think is subtle enough but Stu picks up on it immediately. He turns and grabs my wrist. The contact is sudden enough to force me to look up. Stu’s watching me, his expression seems innocent, and not in that pretend way either. There’s a hint of confusion behind his eyes. I’m not sure I entirely believe it, but I think it’s possible that what I’m mad about isn’t coming to mind. He has no reason to think I’d know about it. 

His hold is firm and oddly warm and bordering on distracting. 

“Stu,” Tatum’s cheery voice snaps the two of us out of our stand off.

He pulls away quickly, eyes falling on Tatum. “There’s my girl.” Stu pulls her into a hug and gives her a quick kiss. “Y/n was going to help me sneak up and surprise you, but she’s in a mood.” 

Ugh. Stu has a way of dismissing any type of reaction that doesn’t work for him as me being in a mood or pouting. “I am not in a mood.” 

“Give her a break.” Stu’s hands are still on her. “Y/n found out about the Noel thing.”My gaze instinctually shifts back to Stu. His easygoing grin falters. Tatum smiles at him with a coy look that I guess could be interpreted as some kind of apology. “Don’t get moody, she pulled it out of us.” 

It takes him a second, but Stu eventually eases off of her. He doesn’t look as content as before, but his expression hints at nothing else besides casual annoyance. “She can’t be too mad if she’s still hanging around you and Sid.” 

“I got to tell them both off already.” 

Stu turns, something smug tugging his face into an almost smile. It’s infuriating. “If that’s what you’re into, babe.” 

Tatum scoffs and halfheartedly smacks his shoulders. “You’ve been around long enough that I don’t have to apologize for him anymore, right?”

“Right.” 

Stu lets out a breath, “Geez, you two sure act like you love me.” 

I am so not in the mood to say anything nice about Stu in front of him. “Maybe if you minded your business a little more--” 

“Okay,” Tatum pushes herself into the budding argument and looks at me. “Save your energy for when there’s two of them.” Good point. If I yelled at Stu and Billy separately every time they messed up, I’d be yelling constantly. Tatum’s attention shifts back to Stu, “Is he around? Sid’s around the corner.” 

Stu shakes his head once. “Nah, it’s still early and he only said he might call. He’s been a little out of it.” 

Billy’s out of it? And out of it enough to not be around Stu for once? It’s not like they’re literally attached at the hip but a weekend evening where both me and their girlfriends are busy and they’re not hanging out together? That in itself hints at something being wrong. 

I think through the last I heard from Billy, but nothing particularly stands out. He might have briefly mentioned his dad but not in a concerning way. Not in a way that indicated he’d have to spend extra time with him or anything.

Billy has also been weirdly absent. No recent warning-less appearances at my window. Has he been going through something and I’m just too caught up in my personal issues to notice? God, this serial killer nonsense has turned me into a terrible friend. 

“He okay?” 

Stu’s eyes flit up to meet mine. “You might want to hold off on the scolding, but last time I checked in, yeah. Just all angsty, you know how Billy gets.” 

I blink. Last time he checked in. Maybe I’m idealizing their friendship too much, but I’ve always felt like they were looking out for each other. Closer than Stu’s current reaction warrants. Or maybe I’m overthinking things and Billy’s just taking some time. He doesn’t seem the type to want to talk about fuzzy things like feelings. 

“We were going to ask you guys to come over, but if he’s not up for it, that’s okay,” Tatum says, “You can still come by later, but I think you should check in on him.” 

Now I’m starting to feel antsy. Like I should go check in on Billy, but I don’t even know what that’d look like. The realization that I’ve never been to Billy’s house hits hard and with no warning. Whenever we all hang out, it’s at my place or someone else’s, and when it’s the three of us we go to Stu’s and sometimes my house. The thought rubs me the wrong way, like this one thing is pulling on the threads of our friendship. 

He’s one of my best friends and I can’t even say I know what his room looks like. 

“I’ll probably stop by soon.” 

That makes me frown. Probably. Soon. 

“Oh, that reminds me.” Tatum’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Dewey wanted me to give you a head’s up that he’ll be trying to meet with you soon. He wants to go over some....stuff.” 

Ugh, this again. I can’t escape it. “Yeah. He has my number, Dewey can call whenever, but the warning was nice.” 

Stu shifts back like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing. “He wants to talk to her again?” He’s more offended than I am. “What? It’s not like anything’s changed.” 

Tatum shrugs, “I don’t know. Dewey doesn’t give me the details.” 

“Unless they have new evidence, they shouldn’t be dragging her back into it just because they don’t know shit.”

I should tell him to drop it. That this is my business and maybe it’s time we establish some firmer boundaries, but I can’t get the words to form. The whole thing feels hypocritical. I should be annoyed, but I’m not because he’s saying what I can’t. 

It’s brief, but for a second it almost feels like Stu might be the closest to someone that gets what it feels like. The irony is insane, considering that there’s no way that empathy’s his strong suit. 

“I don’t know. It’s not my thing.” 

Tatum is understandably a little defensive, which is fair. Especially when considering our earlier conversation. This isn’t fair to her. “It’s okay.” The words feel like a flat cop out compared to Stu’s instinctual defense. “It’s not Tatum’s fault and Dewey was really nice about it last time--” 

“Last time? You mean when they ambushed you at the hospital before they let you take visitors?” 

My stomach knots at that. The feeling of waking up there, confused and unaware of what I’d just been through and then being made to feel like I was completely alone while Billy and Stu were waiting outside for me. “That’s not his fault.” A dry defense. “It sucks, but it’s for the greater good and it won’t take long.” I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or him. “It’s okay.” 

Stu half sighs. “I’m going to grab my movie and head out, maybe stop by Billy’s.” He tuns to give Tatum a brief goodbye kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll see you soon, Y/n. Make sure you get to yell at me before it builds too much.” 

At that, I roll my eyes but still wave him off. 

---- 

My eyes are on the phone again, staring down the extension on my nightstand like it’s keeping things from me. 

Ugh. This is ridiculous. I snap my attention back to the homework in front of me. Some extra credit for my math class. It’s an attempt at damage control because the test I had to take the morning after being attacked by a serial killer is seriously bringing down my GPA. Too bad calc has never been my strong suit. The distraction that is my inability to move on from what Stu said is definitely not helping. 

Even after Sidney, Tatum, and I left the video store, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Stu’s uncertainty and what Billy could be going through. Maybe Stu was playing down how much he knows because Billy didn’t want anyone else knowing. I could see that. Hope for that since the thought of Billy locking himself in his room and dealing with whatever it is completely alone tugs at my heart.  

I could call. He might not answer, but that’s okay. It might make me feel better to just do something and it’s not like I’ve never called him. There’s also the more extreme option of showing up to his place. I’ve never been to his house,  but he’s pointed it out before. Even though I physically could get there, that feels like too much. If I’ve never been over, it’s probably for a reason.

There’s also Stu. I could call him to ask about Billy. He’s more likely to tell me about how Billy’s doing than Billy. But that also feels weird for no reason. Again, it’s not like I never call them. 

I glance over at the digital clock on my desk. 7:56. Okay--it’s not too late. Not weirdly late. 

I stand before I can think about it too much, walking over to the phone. If it’s going to be distracting, I should just get it over with. Maybe having some kind of answer will make it easier to focus on things.

The phone rings about three times before there’s an answer. “Yeah?” 

“Hey.” Okay, that one word feels super awkward for no reason. “Hi--it’s um--” Be more normal. It’s just Stu. “It’s Y/n.” 

A quick breath that feels more like a laugh than it sounds. “Yeah, I figured that out.” Great, now he’s making fun of me. “I also know why you’re calling.” 

“Really?” 

I can feel his amusement over the phone. “You can’t stop thinking about me and want me to come over.”

I snort as soon as the words wash over me. What was I expecting? “You figured it out. This is a booty call.” 

Stu sort of laughs. “Yeah? I can be over in five.”

Pressing my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, I sit up a little more. “Loser.” I reach over for a pillow and pull it on to my lap. “Okay, so actual reason, I was trying to do something for calc, so obviously my mind was wandering and thinking about literally anything else.” 

“Obviously.” 

My fingers brush the fluff of the pillow’s exterior. I brush the strands flat and then back into little spikes of hair. “And at some point, I started thinking about what you said at the video store. About Billy.”

There’s a brief silence, and then another one of Stu’s breathy-accidental-laughs. “Aw, you’re worried.” Ugh. “That’s cute, angel, I’ll make sure to tell him.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.” 

My nose wrinkles at that, nails smothering my pillow’s layer of fluff. “Is he okay or not?” 

For a second, the only thing coming from the other side of the phone is the general static of someone’s movement. “Bossy.” I roll my eyes, but before I can tell him to spare me tonight, Stu continues, “Why didn’t you just call Billy?” 

It’s a fair question, which only bugs me more. “Because there’s no way to call someone and ask if they’re okay based on a passing comment without sounding insane.” 

I pinch the thin hairs of my pillows between my thumb and index finger. “And it’s less insane this way?”

Feels like it. “Kinda, yeah.” 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Billy’s fine, he’ll be back to his usual levels of brooding soon. Promise.” I don’t know what to make of that, so I just focus on my pillow. “It might help if you called him tomorrow. Let him sleep it off for a little longer.”

That’s probably a good suggestion. “Yeah, I’ll do that.” My eyes drift back to the still open textbook on my desk. My mom is out with Wells so I can’t even use her as an excuse to not be doing this right now. I briefly bite my tongue to give myself a second to think through what I’m considering. “You um--are you doing anything right now?” Even more awkward. Great. “I could really use an excuse to not work on calc right now.” 

“Now it’s a booty call.” 

Being friends with him is so annoying sometimes. “I hate you.”

“Ouch,” a brief shuffling before he speaks again, “You know I love distracting you--” I roll my eyes. “But tonight’s--” 

“Shit, is Tatum over or something?” A hand flies over my mouth. Of course I’d call at a time where he had someone over and be a total mess. “I’m sorry.” 

Some more static before a response, “No, it’s--” He sighs once. “Billy’s here and he’s--” Oh. My embarrassment is definitely doubling, but there’s still some relief there. At least he’s not alone. “Maybe you should come over, help cheer him up.”

“You’re kind of an asshole for not mentioning that earlier.” I push the throw pillow off my lap and let my back fall onto my cocoon of larger pillows. “And it’s fine, I wouldn’t want to overwhelm him or anything.” 

“No,” Stu’s answer is quick but feels a little flat. Almost worried. “You--I think it’d be good for him to see you.” There’s still a bit of hesitance there, like Stu’s not telling me the full story. Maybe he can’t. “We rented a few movies and I think I might still have those sour gummy things you like.” 

I really do love sour gummies. “Is Billy okay with it?” 

“It’s my house, bug.” When I don’t say anything, Stu sighs, “Kidding. C’mon, he loves you.” I don’t know why I’m debating so much, it was my idea, but now it feels a little intrusive of me. “And we’re a lot more fun than calculus.” 

“Not a high bar you’re setting there.” Stu pointedly scoffs. “Okay--if you’re sure Billy’s okay with it, I’ll be over in a few.”

“Need to go ask your mommy?” 

I’m already pushing myself to my feet. “Shut up.” An ‘at least I have a parent that gives a shit’ nearly slips out and I just barely manage to bite my tongue. That’d be like reacting to a playful shove with a punch to the face. Besides, my mom’s not a factor right now. She and Wells are out to dinner with some friends. She left me with a 20 to order pizza and maybe rent a movie. “I can still not go.” 

Stu chooses to ignore the (empty) threat, “See you soon, babe.” 

I push open the door of my closet and search through it as quickly as possible. It’s not like I need to get dressed up to go to Stu’s, but my stained pajama pants from the ninth grade and practically threadbare tank top aren’t things I wear out of the house. Especially now that fall is making evenings a lot chillier. “I don’t get our friendship.”

“I keep you supplied with those awful sour gummies.”

I smile despite myself, grabbing something out of my closet. “That explains it.” Bending down, I pick up another article of clothing. “See you soon.” 

----

“There she is.”

Stu pulls me into a hug before I can think to react. He’s always so warm and everywhere. I think it has to do with his smell. It sounds weird but he’s so consistent about it. Enough expensive laundry detergent to drown out most of the usual teen boy body spray musk to a level that’s tolerable and sharpens the slight hint of weed that seems to cling to him. Even that is balanced. Subtle unless you know to think about it. But now it’s a little more overwhelming than usual...fresher. 

Like he just finished a joint. I stare at him for a second and while his eyes seem mostly normal, there’s a bit of a red tinge there. If it wasn’t for the smell of weed, I wouldn’t have noticed. “Are you high?” 

The corner of Stu’s mouth pulls up into an almost smile. He’s amused. “That’s a fun way to greet me.” I give him a pointed look. “Mmm...maybe a little.” Stu extends an arm, halfheartedly punching me in the shoulder. Instead of dropping his arm like usual, Stu relaxes his fist in order to squeeze the top of my arm. “What gave me away, angel?”

“With you, it’s always a safe guess.” He sort of frowns, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Kidding. You smell like a dispensary.” 

Stu squeezes my arm a little harder. “Judgy.” He tilts his head slightly. “And here I was going to offer you some.” 

“No one likes me when I’m high.” That’s true enough. I get all paranoid and clingy. Randy won’t even smoke around me if we’re alone just in case. 

He half scoffs. “Nah, that’s just for people that don’t know how to handle you.” 

Handle me? I’m about to give him some sarcastic answer, but when my eyes meet his, the reaction freezes over. He’s staring at me with a concentration that feels more prominent than his hand on my arm. I don’t know why, but I feel the need the redirect and break the silence. “Where’s Billy?” 

“In my room.” Stu swings a hand around my shoulder and starts guiding me forward. “C’mon, he’ll be happy to see you.” 

I should shrug Stu off of me, but it feels easier to just let him. Besides, there are other things to worry about. From the vagueness Stu’s been handling mentions of Billy with, I half expect him to be in a straight jacket or something. “He--he does know I’m here, right?” 

The only answer I get is Stu placing a hand on his bedroom door once we reach it. He releases me to push open it open. “Hey, feeling any better?” Billy doesn’t get a chance to reply before Stu continues, “Because I brought you a present.” 

Weird...and kind of objectifying, but in a weird way. It’s not so much the words, but the way he’s saying them. This is definitely an ambush. Stu pushes the door open all the way before I can really react. I still make a point of smacking his arm. “Don’t make it weird.” 

I turn my head towards Stu’s room. Billy is in there, sitting with his back against the headboard and he’s looking at me but there’s little recognition. It’s more like he’s seeing through me. I want to assume it’s part of some kind of side effect of being high, but I can’t quite get myself to dismiss it as something so casual.

Any fight directed at Stu evaporates into the air and morphs into this weird veil of tension. Not good or bad. Just heavy and full, bleeding through the room and into the hall where I’m still standing. 

“Hi,” it feels like an attempt at cutting through the harshness, “I heard you were feeling bad so I thought I’d come back and make you feel worse.” 

Billy’s eyebrows draw together slightly, like he’s considering how to react. He settles on a, “Yeah?” It feels smaller than the way he usually is. 

I swallow my instinctual reaction. “Yeah--things aren’t looking too good in Iraq and everyone’s getting too comfortable with nuclear bombs.” 

The corner of his mouth turns up into an almost smile. It’s not quite there, but the thawing of the icy layer behind his gaze is cracking. “Anything else?”

“I still think the Princess Diana divorce is kind of a bummer.” 

Stu sighs dramatically. “Of course you’re on her side.” 

“There is no other side, Charles is the worst.” 

Stu walks fully into his room and practically flops onto his bed. His head hits Billy’s calf and Billy throws him a dirty look before adjusting. “Charles is next in line for the throne. That entitles him to all the girls he wants. That’s just history.”

I wrinkle my nose and halfheartedly glare at him. “He’s also probably inbred.”

Billy sits up a little further, reaching for what I’m assuming is a joint. “Definitely inbred.”

The small vouch of support is strangely easing.

Stu tilts his head to look at me briefly. “You two deserve each other.”

“Don’t pout.” Maybe not my smartest joke, but it’s too easy to pass up on. 

He props his head up just to glare at me. “I can still kick you out.”

I roll my eyes and Billy wordlessly extends what he’s been smoking. Stu reaches for it absentmindedly and Billy moves his arm away. “You need to slow down.” 

Stu doesn’t protest, which has to be a byproduct of his easy high. I’m so distracted by that it takes a second for it to click. If Billy isn’t handing off the joint to Stu, he’s trying to give it to me...the person who’s going to be around their mom and a cop before the night’s over. 

“Can’t tonight.” I’m so going to get bullied for this, “My mom would know immediately, and then she’d kill all three of us.” 

Billy sits up a little more, not fully taking his hand back but relaxing it a little. Stu drops his head back down, accidentally landing on Billy’s leg. I suppress a laugh when Billy lazily shrugs Stu off. It doesn’t work, because Stu still glares at me as he curls into himself slightly. “You could stay over, sleep it off.”

Maybe Stu’s more high than I thought. I take a step forward, feeling awkward about the distance. “I don’t see how that helps the my mom killing us all thing.” 

“You could call her from my home phone, tell her you’re staying over at Sidney’s or Tay’s.” Stu doesn’t wait for my response before stretching out an arm in my direction. “Come here.” 

It feels a little bit like a trap, but at the same time, standing this close to the door is probably weirder than anything Stu’s going to try. I walk forward and sit down on the edge of his bed. Stu smiles lazily and adjusts so that his legs are on my lap. They’re long. He’s basically an arachnid. 

With Stu, a firm approach is usually best, but this seems harmless enough so I don’t kick him off of me. “You’re like a spider.”

He laugh-scoffs, stretching even further. “Like a daddy long legs.”

There’s a weird attempt at sultriness in his words. It’s so stupid I can’t hep the terrible laugh that comes out. “Shut up. You’re so gross.” Now I do want him off of me. He won’t move so I try dragging myself back a little. All that does is make me bump into Billy’s arm. “Sorry.” 

Dismissing my apologetic look with a short wave of the hand still holding the joint, Billy sits up even more, angling himself towards me. “You should be.” It’s sarcastic, but still oddly flat, like Billy’s putting work into being a part of the conversation.

Stu, clearly feeling forgotten, softly kicks his leg. “Your sobriety’s bringing old Billy Boy back down.” 

I lean back, ignoring the way my fingers brush against Billy’s. “I promise me being high would only depress him more.” 

“I like you high,” Billy muses flatly, “You get all jumpy.” 

I roll my eyes, trying to straighten to pull my hand back but Billy doesn’t let me get that far. His hand turns over and pulls his fingers between my own. It’s a casual enough attempt to pull me back into place, but his eyes are so quick to meet mine. There’s something almost nervous about the shift, and vaguely familiar. An uncertain, begrudging request for reassurance I’ve come to associate with people going through some sort of depressive episode. 

“That was one time,” I mumble, “And it was because you guys are assholes and didn’t tell me that it was extra strong.” 

Stu’s leg moves again, “It wasn’t extra strong, we just didn’t pace you.” 

“Either way--assholes.” 

Billy moves his thumb along my knuckles. “We’ll be nice this time.” He takes a deliberate hit and exhales the smoke in a way that lingers. I can feel the smell of it, a paranoid part of me thinking it’s already caught up in my hair and clothes and skin. Like my mom will just be able to tell already. Maybe it is already too late. 

And it’d upset her. She’s already worried enough about how I’m handling all the killer stuff, if she thinks I’m acting out and smoking she’ll probably freak. This also wouldn’t be the first time I did something like this and didn’t tell her...or the first time I stayed over at a friend’s house to sleep something off. 

It’s also objectively nice to be around them. Also, Billy’s whole slightly off thing is something I’ve definitely seen before. The familiarity finally clicks into place, a few memories of my mother from when I was younger. Bad ones, days in which things slipped through the cracks before my mom was diagnosed and started managing that part of herself.

“Even if you don’t smoke, you should call your mom...stay over.” Billy gets the words out stiffly, like some invisible force was trying to shove them back down his throat. “Keep me from being alone with that one.”

Stu lets out a sound that’s sounds a lot like a tired “fuck off”. The casual disapproval makes me smile.

Billy takes another, much shorter hit. I let myself observe the process. The way the smoke goes in, how he holds it in, and finally the way he forces it out. Billy wordlessly turns the joint around in a silent offering. I give in with an exhale and reach over. Billy doesn’t let me get that far, moving so that his fingers are almost to my mouth. I part my lips and let him hold the joint there as I inhale. He doesn’t give me long before taking it back. He runs his thumb along my knuckles. “Hold.” I struggle, but follow through. “Good. Now breathe.” 

I let it out with a slight cough.

“There ya go,” Stu mumbles, patiently dragging his leg up my thigh. “You’ll feel better.” I wish I had more experience with smoking outside of them. If I did, I’d have a reference point to tell me if Stu’s weed is actually extra strong or not. I’m sure what he gets is considered good shit, since he definitely has the money and tolerance. “You should call your mom before you get all giggly.” 

I openly frown. “I do not get ‘giggly’.” 

“Yeah, you do.” 

I’m not in an argumentative mood. Maybe it’s the atmosphere or the weed is already starting to cloud my judgement. I should call my mom, though. It hasn’t been that long since I left, which means she’s probably still out with Wells. It’ll be easier to just leave a message on the machine. She always checks when she gets home. 

Ever since the first incident, my mom keeps a cell phone on her that’s always on, but it’s still weird to both of us. I don’t have the number fully memorized yet, it’s written on a note held to the fridge by a magnet back home...a few blocks away. The cell phone isn’t exclusively emergency, but my mom doesn’t love portable technology. She thinks they’re tacky and breed rudeness.

I tap Stu’s leg, “Up.” 

Surprisingly enough, Stu listens, letting me go. I let go of Billy’s hand and reach for the extension on Stu’s nightstand. I quickly dial my number and leave a flat message. Staying over at Sid’s, have fun but not too much fun, love you and see you tomorrow. 

In a moment of straight forward association, I almost went with telling my mom I was staying at Tatum’s, but I have to talk to Dewey soon and my mom will probably be there and that felt like a potential loose end. 

Stu half snorts, “Love you and see you tomorrow, mom.” 

I shove Stu’s shoulder. “Shut up.” 

“Have fun but not too much fun,” Billy mumbles, a lot more subdued but just as teasing. 

Rolling my eyes, I move back to the edge of the bed where I was sitting before. “It’s an inside joke.” 

Stu leans forward and pinches my cheek. “That’s adorable.” 

The patronization doesn’t sit well and my eyelids feel heavier than they did a second ago. “I hate you guys.” 

“Clearly,” Stu breathes, reaching over and taking the joint from Billy. “Oh, Billy, forgot to tell you, Y/n’s supposed to be mad at us.” Billy tilts his head a little too far to one side like that’s news enough for him to be curious. “Tay told her about the Noel thing.” 

Billy feels imbalanced, head leaning one way and spine straight. His eyes harden over again. “Really?” He takes my hand again, this time a lot less softly. “Over that asshole?” I let him run his knuckles over my hand again, even though this time it feels a lot less soothing. “If none of your friends like a guy, that usually says something about the guy.” 

I’m sure there’s some kind of joke I could spin. Maybe about where he learned that one from. Get that from Cosmo? But the bordering on defensive look behind Billy’s eyes is overbearing and messing with my head. Stu is seriously in danger for bringing this up right now. 

“It’s not about the guy,” I manage, “It’s about...” All the points I had feel a lot less concrete under Billy’s scrutiny...or maybe it’s the weed. Or both. I swallow, dropping my gaze to my lap as I try to really think. Okay, it’s definitely both. “Timing and boundaries.” It feels fractured. “Like even if a guy totally sucks, you can’t go over my head about it.” 

Stu lets out a sigh, dropping his head onto one of his pillow’s. I glare openly. This is all his fault. Why bring it up now? Billy was just starting to act a little more like himself. “I don’t know what you see in him.” Ugh. It’s like he’s not even hearing me. “Especially with the way he talked about Casey.” 

That last part hits its intended goal. Stu’s staring at the ceiling, so I can’t see his expression, but he seems to take my silence as a win. I don’t know Noel as well as they do, but he did talk about Casey at that party and it wasn’t exactly kind. 

I squeeze what I can grab of the comforter like that will tether me here. It half works but it does nothing to ease the tightening in my chest. The memories mix uneasily with the start of my high. The dip of panic doesn’t suit the way my body wants to feel and it all blends together in a way that leaves me on edge and a little nauseous. 

There’s the sound of someone moving, but I barely pick up on it. Billy smacks the side of Stu’s head. “Too much, asshole.”

Stu throws Billy an offended look before craning his neck to look at me. I must look as off as I feel, because Stu does sit up. “Shit,” he pushes himself back, “Sorry. I didn’t think--” 

“You never think.” The words are pointed, but not completely angry. If I was feeling any better, I would’ve laughed. He slowly reaches forward and I don’t stop him from prying my fingers away from the sheets. “Your trip going a little bad?” I nod. “Don’t think about it.” Easier said than done. “You could end up like Stu the one time he smoked too much while watching one of those old horror movies where the special effects are basically held up by a string.” 

That cracks at the panic a little. “What did he do?” 

“Convinced himself that it was real and we were the ones that were off.” 

I almost laugh. “Actually?” 

“Shut up,” Stu sighs, a little bitter but not actually mad. 

Billy ignores him, “Actually.” He turns my hand over carefully before running his fingers over the thin scar on my palm and up my wrist. “So you’re already doing better than him.”

For a second, I let myself study Billy. The wisps of hair falling forward, the slight pinch between his eyebrows, his focused expression. Billy almost always holds himself with a certain tenseness. Whether that’s force of habit or natural to him, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why he gets along so well with Stu. They balance each other. 

“Are you...” I don’t know where I’m going with this. “Are you feeling any better?” 

His expression briefly clouds, pulling into something much more blank. He drops his gaze and for a second I feel like I might need to take it back. “Yeah--yeah, don’t worry.” Again, easier said than done. Billy clears his throat almost immediately after, like that will erase the fact that he actually responded. 

“Good.” It doesn’t sound overly positive, but he hasn’t convinced me. “I’ve missed you, a little.” That feels a lot more real.

Billy angles his head downwards, almost smiling. “Only a little?” 

“It’s not like you haven’t been around at all.” He traces an invisible line up my wrist. “Maybe more than a little, anyway.” 

“Aw,” Stu hums, his hand finding a place on my back. He leans forward and rests his head on my shoulder. “You two are adorable.” I’m not really given a chance to answer before Stu lets out a sigh that I feel against my neck, “Don’t be mad.” 

Honestly, I’m not feeling any anger. I’m a little annoyed at him and frustrated that I’m still not normal. That’s all there is. It’s too tiring to turn into anger. “’M not mad,” it feels like a confession, “A little annoyed at you, but not more than usual.” 

He breathes a sarcastic, “Haha” into my shoulder. 

With no warning, I start to unweave myself from them. I think they’re too confused to ask until I’m actually standing. 

“Where are you going, angel?” 

I don’t really know, so I can’t really answer. Stu’s room isn’t super familiar. I’ve been in here a couple times, most of them brief. I take a second to really take in the space. A lot of posters, the ones that aren’t directly bloody movie posters feature practically naked women and some combine the two. It fits him.

“Getting a feel,” I decide on, “You can tell a lot about a person based on their room.” 

Stu moves to the edge of his bed, grinning at my focus. “Really?” 

I move to pull open the drawer of his nightstand. “Mhm.” 

“You’re not going to like anything you find in there.” He places a hand on the front of drawer but doesn’t stop me. 

It takes me a second too long to realize what he’s getting at. By then, I’ve already taken in a cover of a magazine with a model that’s wearing even less than the girls on the posters, a box of condoms, a surprisingly neatly stacked set of polaroids, an old deck of cards, and a few random odds and ends all crammed in there. 

My nose wrinkles, but I’m too distracted by the polaroids to make fun of him. I can only see the top one, but it’s innocent enough, an accidental snapshot that sort of looks like a blurry person on a couch.  

“Polaroids?” I pick them out of the drawer and flip to the next one. A small lump that looks like a cat in Stu’s living room. Weird, I’ve never seen one in his house and he’s never mentioned having a pet. Maybe these are old pictures. Before I can snoop any further, Stu pulls the stack of photos away from me. “You’re no fun.” 

He rolls his eyes as he moves the first photo back into place. “You’re nosy.” I don’t say anything because I’m not so high that I’m clueless. This is a little weird of me, but I can’t help the impulse. “What if the next picture had been me naked?” 

“You take naked pictures of yourself and keep them in your nightstand?” 

Stu intentionally ignores my laughter. “You don’t need pictures for that, baby, you can see the real thing.” 

My laughter picks up again. “Yeah? Let’s go right now.” 

At that, Stu does crack a bit of a smile. “Let’s make Billy strip first.” 

“Deal,” I mumble through another laugh. 

Billy drops his head onto a pillow, “Fuck off.” 

I turn my attention back to the card deck and dig them out with my nail. “Any naked pictures hidden in here or am I good?” 

“No promises.” With that as my warning, I begin to shuffle the cards absentmindedly. “Why? You wanna play strip poker?” 

Ignoring him, I move back to my previous position on the edge of the bed. “Think I’m good.” 

I drag the nail of my thumb along the edge of the cards and focus on the sound of them. Billy nudges my knee with his. I look up as he extends his arm, silently asking for the cards. I hand them over without thinking much about it. Billy begins to actually shuffle in a way that would fit Vegas. 

He has to notice my mesmerized stare, but he says nothing. “Do you actually know how to play anything?”

My mom briefly worked at a casino when I was in the first grade and she’d have to bring me in sometimes, but I retained nothing. “Not really.” 

That starts something. A process that should have been short and easy. Billy trying to explain different versions of poker and Stu trying to trick me, but only sometimes so I couldn’t know to for sure not trust him. It’s a mess of laughter and a refreshing lack of angst. Every once in awhile, someone insists that a loser has to take a drag from a joint, so everyone’s progressively getting worse. I’m pretty sure Stu’s cheating somehow, but I have no proof and I’m too out of it to get any. 

It’s so lighthearted and genuinely fun that I’m fighting against the heaviness of my eyelids. It can’t be that late, but I’m already starting to feel drowsy. I’ve finally been given good cards, so I really need to get it together. “I won.”  

Stu scoffs, eyebrows drawing together as he eyes the cards I just set down. “No--that’s not--” 

“I won,” a yawn cuts my sentence in half, “Don’t be a loser about it.” 

Stu picks up all the cards, ignoring my protests. He’s already mixed me up a couple of times. “I can let you have this one, because you’re--” 

“Because you have to.” 

Billy turns his ankle, tapping his foot against my leg. “Don’t be mean about it.” 

That was nowhere near mean. “Dramatic, both of you.” 

Stu’s mouth falls open in a mock gasp as he continues to gather cards. I don’t know what he’s doing until he drops them all back into his drawer and shuts it. He then walks towards his dresser, pulls out a T-shirt, and tosses it in my direction. “After all I’ve done for you.” 

I pick up the T-shirt and fold it onto my lap but make no move to go to the bathroom to change. “I don’t want to go to sleep.” 

“You’re half asleep already.” Billy ignores the dirty look I give him. “Just change in case you fall asleep.” 

Stupid voice of reason. I scratch the back of my wrist and decide to give in. If for no other reason than the fact that Stu’s shirt is almost weirdly soft. Rich people must have access to different kinds of fabric. I reluctantly get up and find Stu’s bathroom.

I change quickly and take a second to make sure Stu gave me a long enough T-shirt. Thankfully, he did, so I don’t have to feel extra awkward about anything. I fold my clothes and bring them back with me. 

“Looks nice on you, babe.” 

Drowsiness hits harder without any distractions. I blink, unsure on how to respond. Stu’s always a flirt with everyone, but it feels a little weird to react to it while standing in his room at night in one of his T-shirts. “It’s the rich guy cotton.”

The corner of his mouth turns up. “And those legs.” 

“Shut up.” 

Billy turns onto his side, fluffing his pillow. “Go to sleep before he gets worse.” 

“Yeah.” The two of them look comfortable, all settled. “I’ll crash on the couch.” 

Stu props his head up on an elbow. “You don’t wanna do that. Living room’s creepy at night and you’ve smoked too much. You’ll get scared.” 

“I’m not 12.” 

“It’s safer here, you wouldn’t be alone if something happened.” 

Ugh, Stu can never resist trying to get me paranoid. “Nothing’s going to happen.” That’s what I thought when I was at Casey’s. 

“Just get in bed,” Billy mumbles, half asleep, “I know how this argument goes with the two of you.” When I don’t move, Billy sighs, “If I fall asleep and you get freaked out, I’m not helping.” 

Stu lays back down, “He means it. He’s an asshole when he’s tired.” He pauses for so long, I briefly think he might have fallen asleep. “...’S not a big deal.” 

True. It wouldn’t even be the first time we all fell asleep in the same bed. And Billy’s slept over in my room enough times for that to barely phase me. “Yeah.” 

I walk over towards the bed. “Drink water,” Billy mumbles the words with his eyes still shut. I look over at the nightstand and there’s a glass there that wasn’t there before. I drink a few long sips until Stu sits up to steal the glass from me. 

Rude. “Give me--” 

He downs the rest of it in a few gulps, “Go to bed.” 

I roll my eyes, but unfortunately do listen. Stu pushes me towards the middle, ignoring my surprised huff. I smack his arm before covering myself with his bed sheets. I barely get to reflect on how much of an asshole move that was before I fall asleep. 

----

A/n fun fact, there’s a moment in here where Y/n came superrr close to accidentally finding out who Ghostface is :) 

Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things @im-better-than-your-newborn @michibuni @bigenargy @marli-lavellan @mushy-mushroom04 @neenieweenie @lone-ray @the-ruler-of-death @andthevillainshallrises @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @dixbolik-bby @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @peachycupotea @my5tica1ien @agustdeeyaa @astrial @3ll0kittylvr420 @zoleea-exultant @slaypussypop-21 @aonungs-tsahik @finnydraws @slytherhoes @vxarak @xofeeeeelsxo @thewayiknowyou @yourslashersfinalgirl @winterridinghood @maggieleighc 

i’m writing a separate mini fic set in the final girl universe rn and billy and stu reacting to y/n missing one day of school with no warning bc she has a cold is so😭

and there’s a little scene where sidney and tatum are like ‘oh she’s not here, she must be sick’ (you know, like normal people) and billy side eyes them for not reading more into it

and stu absolutely not listening to any ‘you’re going to get sick’ warnings and being as touchy as ever 

pls they have like 3 emotional intelligence points between the two of them 

working on part 9 of final girl rn and in my opinion it’s one of the softest chapters yet 😭

im also planning on sm character development,, but that’s only coming across if i write it correctly, so i hope it comes off,, but even if it doesn’t still a super cute plot,, and then a little morally iffy but in a way that’s cute

ahh thank you for including me on here!!

- 𝐉𝐎𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒!

𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠!!!

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛 & 𝐜𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 • 𝟐𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 • @laters-gators

Ellie steals one of Bills magazines and you and Joel decide to see what the fuss is about.

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 • @mellowsaturns

you and joel get into a fight after he refuses to let you come with him to find his brother

𝐢𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 • @orangevtae

ellie needs reassurance that you are live and well after an infected surprise attack while you were taking a walk with her

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 • @cevansgoatee

An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface.

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 • @unrefinedmusings

meeting a man in a bar and trying to determine what about him is so damn alluring. it doesn't really matter though, it ends well for the both of you.

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 • @egcdeath

you and joel are the most competitive parents in your daughters’ soccer league. as it turns out, it’s not so easy being enemies when your daughters become best friends.

𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰, 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐮𝐲 • @nexusnyx

All his attempts at faking nonchalance about anything are gone out of the window just like that. Four words and Joel's changed. In his bones, the very chemistry of his brain. "'Cause he's my guy." How did he ever manage to not claim you in front of the world? He has no clue, but Joel's changing that. Tonight.

𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥 • @cosmictheo

during a stormy night at bill and frank's house, joel teaches you how to hold your gun, and this opens up the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally release all the feelings of longing and lust you've been repressed for each other over the past few weeks.

𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭 • @egcdeath

nothing stirs the pot like your ex-husband, gossipy soccer moms, and a weekend-long soccer tournament.

𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 • @inklore

there’s always been something there, between the two of you. unspoken and filling in the cracks of those moments where joel is helping you out of a tough situation and your offering up a thank you and sweet smile. if only it didn’t take bloody knuckles and some band-aids to finally crack the code of that something

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 • @cevansgoatee

You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 • @lavendertales

who would've thought one of Tommy's good friends would have such an impact on Joel?

𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧' • @charnelhouse

You are another means to an end. He needs a second pair of hands and you have the face to distract scavengers and the guts to kill people who need to be put down.

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 • @mellowsaturns

joel do what he does best, smuggling and taking care of you

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 • @mypoisonedvine

when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade

𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐠 • @quin-ns

you can’t get comfortable in your sleeping bag, so joel invites you into his

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 • @nexusnyx

He's always been out of reach. A fantasy. Joel was too much of everything—too handsome, too friendly, too una-fucking-vailable for any of you. Too bad his kid adores you. (What a blessing.) Too bad she uses you as a scapegoat and lands him right on his door. One bottle of wine, and Joel shows you he might be closer than you thought.

𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 • @yelena-bellova

People who once loved each other didn’t end up in a bloodstained hall, guns pointed at one another.

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐬 • @sameheart-sameblood

when the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. joel miller makes that rule hard to stick to

𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱 • @from-the-clouds

Joel shows up at your doorstep, battered and bruised. Despite the bad blood between you, do you have the heart to turn him away?

𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 • @yesimwriting

You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 

𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐬 • @charnelhouse

Joel and you take a shower after a traumatic event.

𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 • @absurdthirst

You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 • @nexusnyx

Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫? • @shangchiswife

sarah’s old babysitter comes to visit from graduate school and joel is surprised

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 • @me-and-your-husband

you’re tired of playing house with Joel. you’re tired of pretending that you don’t want something more from him than unspoken touches on nights when you both feel lonely. your body finally gives in to what you want, barely leaving room for your mind to follow.

𝐢’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 • @youlightmeupfinn

you can't help but feel inferior when two women throw themselves at joel upon you moving to jackson.

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 • @omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts

You’ve been by Ellie’s side since she was little, a family figure and her protector, after both of your families passed away and you found one another in the QZ. So, when the gruff and demanding Joel Miller steps into the picture to take you both to the lab Ellie needs, the two of you don’t see eye to eye. But after time passes, attraction settles in and you and Joel might feel more for the other than you thought. 

𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 • @quin-ns

bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

𝐩𝐬 • 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵.

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘺. 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪’𝘮 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 :)

One of Them

SCREAM VI SPOILERS !

A/n Just a little thing I wrote up that’s set up to have a part 2. This is inspired by the scene where Ethan talks about being excited to kill Chad,, but this is more of a set up and in part 2 we’ll see that lol

Summary: Ethan picks the worst time to develop a crush on one of the core four’s best friends. Especially when said best friend has been spending extra time around Chad. 

----

You swear you can feel the base of the music vibrating in your chest. Thump. Thump. Maybe it’s shifting the beat of your heart to match. Or maybe you should stop refilling the red solo cup in your hand before you can piece together how you downed it. 

Halloween weekend and a fraternity. Dangerous enough combination.

Blinking hard, you force your eyes to focus. You may not be sober, but at least you’re not so drunk you think you’re invincible. A bar some of your friends have surpassed...Tara brushed past you and barely mumbled a ‘sorry, getting more beer, you want anything?’ If you had felt any better, you might have told her to slow down.

When your vision refocuses, your eyes land on a familiar figure. Chad. It only takes you another second to find Ethan right next to him. Chad looks up and waves you over. 

Ah. The realization that you’re about to be around Ethan again makes you down the last of what’s in your cup. So much for pacing yourself for the rest of the night.

You walk over casually. Unfortunately for you, the rush of additional alcohol paired with the toxic waste zone that is the ground of the fraternity makes your shoes lose traction just as you lose balance. You slip. 

“Woah...” Chad’s hand is warm and steady on your waste as he saves you from a total wipeout. “You might want to mix in some water between the shots those sorority girls keep getting you to do.”

Normally, you’d feel awkward, but Chad’s so inherently nice it doesn’t come. Sure, the alcohol’s helping, but at least half of your sense of ease comes from him. You half grin. “Where’s the fun in that?” Chad doesn’t let go of you until you’re clearly stable. “Kidding. I promise I’m trying to ease up.” 

He briefly raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t quite believe you. “Sure.” 

“You’re one to talk, Ethan and you have been drinking since before we got here.”

“It’s called pregaming.” 

Ethan tilts his head slightly, “For the record, I don’t mind watching you take shots with the sisters of whatever those Greek letters were.” 

There’s something almost comical, almost suggestive about his words. You’re too out of it to fully follow. “Yeah? You looking for a member of Kappa Kappa whatever Elle Woods was in?” 

Ethan blinks, parts his lips, and then halfheartedly drops his head. Is he...flustered? The display is oddly cute and you nearly laugh. 

Chad warmly bumps Ethan’s shoulder with his hand. “Nah, my boy Ethan’s looking for...” A brief trail off that once again, you think you’d be able to get if it wasn’t for all you had to drink. “Something else.” 

The spirit of over drinking must possess you, because you grin and ask, “Yeah? You more the settling down type?” It’s not violently bold, but it’s more than you usually give. More than you would have gone for if you had been more sober. You laugh to cover your regret. “That was um...more vodka than me.” You shake your head once as if that will reset the conversation. “Oh. Speaking of settling down, Chad I um...” 

You freeze, wondering if you said too much. Chad has taken to having a roommate well. He drags Ethan along and pushes him out of his comfort zone in a way that you think is good for him. You also think Ethan is good for keeping Chad a little stable. You know they’re friendly, friendlier than Ethan is with anyone else, but you don’t know if they’re close enough to talk about crushes. More specifically, the crush Chad has on Tara. The one you’ve been trying to help him think of a good way to confess because he labeled you the ‘Tara expert’ since the two of you became such fast friends.

“The project.” Nice. It was nowhere near subtle and you can’t help shooting a glance in Ethan’s direction to see that if he picked up on it. Ah--too late to keep going. “I have something that--that has to do with it that we--that I need to show you.”

Chad’s eyebrows draw together but eventually realization draws in. “Oh...yeah, I should go see what that project thing’s about.” It’s a faulty exit, but it’s not like you’ve given him much to work with. 

The alcohol turns in your stomach at Ethan’s flat expression. That was kind of an asshole move, like you’re trying to purposefully leave him out when you just didn’t want to out your friend. Chad trusted you with a secret that’s a bigger deal than it seems. Liking Tara isn’t as casual as liking anyone else because of how bonded their friend group is. The four of them need each other. It’s a situation much too delicate for an unsober you to insert yourself in.

“Hey, Ethan.” You’re already walking forward, feeling nervous about the Tara situation. You should have gotten to this faster. You didn’t like the frat guy she was with. “We’re still on for tomorrow? Studying?” 

His head tilts and you briefly wonder if you’ve somehow more awkward. “Uh--I’m not sure you’re going to be up for econ homework tomorrow.” 

“That’s okay,” you hum easily, “I’ll call you and we can figure it out, even if it’s just getting hangover food together.” 

Ethan’s confusion slowly morphs into what’s almost a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll call you.”

You don’t have a way to justify how excited that makes you. Maybe it’s the alcohol. You really hope it’s the alcohol that’s making you grin like a little kid. “Cool.” 

Someone steps froward, accidentally bumping into you and reminding you of the setting. Right. Party. Tara. Weird frat guy. Chad. You turn your head and grab on to Chad’s arm to stay stable. “C’mon, we need to find Tara. Serious SOS.” 

----

The world shared in your chaos for a brief second. Some frat guy grabbed Tara too harshly, Chad got him to back off, and Sam burst in and tased the guy. Everyone pulled out their phones and then all it took was one reddit loser to recognize Sam. They’re all trying to leave and you’re half stranded on a couch that’s weirdly damp because you’re not sure you can still move. 

“I know you don’t want to be here but we can’t just leave her!” You hear that from somewhere behind you. Tara. 

Sam begrudgingly sighs. “I--I didn’t say we should leave her!” 

You want to defend her, the words angling themselves on your tongue. They never come out. Your eyelids are too heavy and your bones have sunken too far into the couch. Sam isn’t the kind of person to leave a friend on a sticky couch when they’re too far gone to even fully lift their head, but the reality of it all doesn’t feel relevant. 

Maybe she would leave you. Maybe they’d both come around to that. It’s not like you’re their sister or a part of their little...survivor inner circle. 

God, that’s a fucked up thing to think, even in the state you’re in, but you can’t help it. The impulse is always there. That doubt. You know why they’re all so close and there’s no way you’re jealous about what they’ve experienced but sometimes being around and knowing that there’s a distinction is hard. Especially because they’re the only people you care about. Maybe that’s why you try so hard with Ethan. You know what it’s like to be a part of it and separate all at once. 

“I can take her.” Another voice, a newer, softer voice. Almost hesitant. Ethan. “To the apartment, make sure she gets there okay.”

"I think we should just do it,” Tara mumbles, “We have to go home anyway.” 

There’s a beat of silence and then Chad says, “It’ll be easier if we send them ahead...you two seem too tense to be be dealing with her right now.”

Ugh. Dealing with. You turn your head in an attempt to lift it off the couch. It briefly works before you slump down again. “Hey.” 

“Said with love, you’re a free spirit.” 

You try again, and this time it’s a little more successful. “’Free spirit’ is what you called that girl that offered to blow you in the bathroom.” 

He sighs. “Don’t be difficult.” 

“Difficult?” 

“Okay,” Sam interjects, because she knows how you and Chad get when you start bickering, “Ethan can take her, I think we need to take a second to talk about--” 

“Whatever,” Tara sighs, already walking away. She turns her head to look at Ethan, “If she’s not safe in bed by the time I get home I will fuck you up.” Sam and Chad throw her a look. “What? It’s not like we’ve known him forever.” 

----

You stumble into your room with an overwhelming awareness of how much you love the space. You were the last one to join the apartment, not starting school during the summer session and not finding the online roommate wanted ad before Quinn, but it feels like you could have lived a lifetime here already.

“We made it.” 

Ethan’s arm is still around your shoulders. He pulled you close to him after a stranger on the street looked at your Halloween costume a little too long and tried to talk to you. The whole thing had been awkward as the stranger kept calling after you and for a brief second you could have sworn Ethan’s eyes lose all hint of their usual warmth. You didn’t think about it, assuming it was just one of those guy, testosterone things. It should have bothered you more. But it didn’t. You felt safe, secure as you leaned into him and his warmth.

“Barely.” It’s said half teasing as Ethan lets you go to sit on your bed. He leans forward and sets down the cardboard helmet he took off on your walk on your desk.

You pretend to be more offended than you feel, crossing over to your bed and sitting down next to him. “Don’t be rude.” Nudging his arm with your shoulder, you half laugh, “I was awesome with directions.” 

He leans his weight back on his forearm. “You were...awesome.” It’s half whispered, almost begrudging and a little shy. 

You grin openly, leaning a little closer to him to compensate for his quiet town. “Thanks for...walking me.”

Ethan watches you for a second, following your lead in shifting a little closer. Your foreheads are practically touching and you can feel the barely-there brush of his curls against your skin. “Why are you whispering?” 

Like he isn’t whispering back. “I don’t know. You started it.” 

He briefly smiles, an expression that he fights against poorly. You’re left with the odd feeling that you’re winning even though you can’t figure out exactly what the game is. “I started it?” 

“Don’t try to confuse me just because I had more to drink than you.”

He holds his hands up in defense briefly before setting them down closer than they were before. His palm is flat against the back of yours. It’s so warm and certain, so much more soothing than the state you’re in. You’re still buzzed, because you turn over your hand slowly, half scared that a too sharp move will ruin all of this. Ethan lets you. He also lets you fit your fingers between his. 

For a second, you two just sit there in silence, hands loosely held together. The sound of your door being thrown open instantly turns the whole thing into something a lot larger. You don’t know why, but everything about the situation burns beyond a comfortable warmth and into something uncomfortably scorching. You push yourself to the edge of your bed and make a point of squeezing your hands on your lap as you turn to face the door. 

Tara’s standing there, leaning against the doorframe. Her expression morphs from nearly blank with shock to a much more straightforward concern. “You...” She drops her gaze to the new space between you and Ethan. “...Guys need to see the news.”