Is this it?" Kayla asks, her voice laced with skepticism as we pull up to a dilapidated ranch-style house at the end of a poorly lit street. The headlights illuminate a scene that's a far cry from the raging college parties I've seen in movies.
Five girls huddle around a small bonfire in the front yard, passing around red solo cups while a keg sits on a folding table nearby. The fire casts dancing shadows across their faces, giving them an almost primal appearance as they laugh at something I can't hear.
I recognize Autumn immediately, her distinctive blonde and red hair reflecting the firelight as she takes a long swig from her cup. She's wearing the same leather jacket from earlier. Her eyes flick toward our car, narrowing slightly before she raises her cup in what might be a greeting or a warning.
"Yep, this is it," I confirm, unbuckling my seatbelt.
Kayla kills the engine but doesn't move to get out. Her hands remain on the steering wheel, knuckles white with tension as she surveys the scene before us.
"This isn't a party, Travis," she says, her voice dropping an octave. "This is five sketchy girls drinking in a yard."
I shrug, feigning nonchalance while my heart races with anticipation. "Small gathering, big party, what's the difference? There's alcohol and people. That's all you need, right?"
Kayla's eyes lock onto Autumn, who's now whispering something to one of the other girls. They both glance our way, and the second girl, tall with a buzzcut and arms covered in tattoos, smirks before taking another drink.
"I don't like this," Kayla mutters, her protective instincts clearly kicking into overdrive. "That one with the dyed hair keeps looking at you."
I fight back a smile. Perfect. "That's Autumn. She's the one who invited us."
"Autumn?" Kayla repeats, her voice dripping with disdain. "What kind of name is that?"
"Her last name is Summers."
Kayla snorts, momentarily distracted from her suspicion. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Autumn Summers. That's her real name."
"Fine, whatever," Kayla says with a sigh, pushing her door open. "Let's get this over with."
We step out of the car, and the atmosphere shifts immediately. The laughter around the fire dies down as all five girls turn to look at us, no, not at us. At Kayla.
The energy changes so fast it's almost comical. The girl with the buzzcut subtly puts down what looks like a joint. Another one, wearing a varsity jacket, straightens her posture like she's been caught slouching by a drill sergeant. The remaining two exchange worried glances before forcing awkward smiles.
Only Autumn approaches us, but even she looks different from the intimidating senior who hit on me earlier today. Her confident swagger is gone, replaced by hesitant steps. Sweat beads on her forehead despite the cool evening air, and her eyes dart nervously between me and my sister.
"Uhh, hi, Travis," she manages, wiping her palms against her jeans. A thin sheen of perspiration glistens on her upper lip.
"Hello," I respond casually, enjoying the power dynamic shift. This girl who tried to dominate me in the cafeteria now looks like she might throw up from anxiety.
Kayla's presence next to me feels larger somehow, her athletic frame radiating a silent authority that has these supposedly tough college girls acting like scolded children. She says nothing, just crosses her arms over her "#1 Sister" sports bra, her eyes coldly assessing each girl in turn.
"So, um, welcome," Autumn continues, her voice higher than I remember. "We've got beer... and some vodka inside. Help yourselves." She gestures vaguely toward the house, then takes an unconscious step backward when Kayla's gaze fixes on her.
"You're Autumn?" Kayla asks, her voice deceptively pleasant. "Travis mentioned you."
"Y-yeah, that's me," Autumn confirms, attempting a smile that looks more like a grimace. "We met in the cafeteria today."
"Did you?" Kayla's tone could freeze lava. Her eyes flick to me, then back to Autumn. "How nice."
I can practically see the wheels turning in Kayla's head, analyzing the threat level, calculating responses. The other girls have begun to whisper among themselves, throwing occasional glances our way.
"Kayla Stone, right?" the girl with the buzzcut suddenly pipes up, her voice carrying across the yard. "You're in Dr. Henderson's class?"
Kayla's eyebrows raise slightly in recognition. "That's right."
The buzzcut girl cocks her head, recognition dawning on her face. "Oh wait, you're the girl who did that 45-slide presentation on her brother today, right?"
Kayla's entire body goes rigid. Her face, previously cool and composed, erupts in a violent blush that spreads from her neck to her hairline in seconds. Her mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for water.
"What the fuck did you say?" she finally sputters, eyes wide with panic. "I never did that. That wasn't me. What are you talking about?"
The tremor in her voice betrays her. I've never seen my confident sister so thoroughly rattled.
The buzzcut girl blinks in confusion. "What? No, I meant…"
Before she can finish, Kayla's hand clamps around my wrist like a vise. She practically drags me across the yard toward the keg, putting as much distance between us and the buzzcut girl as possible. Her breathing is shallow and quick like she's just run a marathon.
"How about you drink a few beers, Travis?" she suggests, her voice unnaturally high. Her hands shake as she grabs a red cup, fumbling twice before successfully getting it under the tap. "You said you wanted to experience a college party, right?"
She's a complete wreck, avoiding my eyes as she fills the cup to the brim, foam spilling over the sides.
"Okay," I say with a smile that threatens to split my face. This is better than I could have hoped for. A 45-slide presentation? About me? My heart hammers against my ribs at the implications.
Instead of handing me the cup, Kayla steps closer, bringing the beer to my lips.
"Open up," she instructs, her voice steadying slightly as she takes control of the situation.
I obediently part my lips, and she tips the cup, pouring the cold beer directly into my mouth. Some of it spills down my chin and onto my shirt, but I don't care. Her eyes are locked on my throat as I swallow, watching each gulp with an intensity that makes my skin burn.
"Good boy," she whispers.
When the cup is empty, she wipes my chin with her thumb, the brief touch electric. Her eyes are still avoiding mine, but there's a flush to her cheeks that has nothing to do with embarrassment anymore.
"Another?" she asks, already refilling the cup without waiting for my answer.
By my third beer, the alcohol is buzzing pleasantly through my system. Kayla has relaxed slightly, though she keeps positioning herself between me and the other girls, especially Autumn, who keeps shooting nervous glances our way.
"So," I say, my voice deliberately casual as Kayla tips another cup to my lips. "A presentation about me, huh?"
"One more, I think. Haha." Her laugh is brittle, forced. She quickly refills the cup, her movements slightly frantic. "Then we should probably go. This party is lame, and these girls are..." She trails off, glaring at the buzzcut girl who's now pointedly looking away.
I lean in closer, feeling emboldened by the alcohol warming my blood. "What exactly was in this presentation, sis? Something about your little brother that required forty-five slides?"
Kayla's free hand finds my wrist, fingers pressing into my pulse point with bruising intensity. "It was for a psych class," she whispers harshly. "Family dynamics. Everyone had to present on someone. I picked you because... because I know you best."
"But today was the first day of classes," I say, my smile widening as I watch her squirm. "There haven't been any assignments yet."
Kayla's eyes widen, caught in her lie. Without warning, she grabs the keg nozzle and shoves it directly into my mouth. Cold beer floods my throat as she holds the tap open, her eyes wild with panic and something darker. Beer overflows from the corners of my mouth, soaking my shirt as she forces me to drink.
"Just.. just shut up," she hisses, her voice trembling as foam spills down my chin. "You don't know what you're talking about."
The other girls are staring now, the party atmosphere completely evaporated. Even Autumn looks genuinely concerned, taking a hesitant step toward us before thinking better of it.
"Maybe we should just forget this, okay?" Kayla says, her voice dropping to a desperate whisper. Her hand is still holding the nozzle to my lips, beer continuing to flow. "Let's just go home and never mention this again."
I try to respond, but the constant stream of beer makes it impossible. My lungs burn as I struggle to keep up with the flow, swallowing frantically. Suddenly, a mouthful goes down the wrong pipe, and I start choking violently, beer sputtering from my nose and mouth.
Kayla immediately releases the nozzle, horror washing over her face as I double over, coughing and gasping for air.
"Travis! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" The transformation is instant and complete. Her hands are gentle now, one rubbing circles on my back while the other supports my chest. "Breathe, just breathe. I've got you."
I continue coughing, my eyes watering as I struggle to clear my lungs. Kayla's panic is palpable, her touch frantic yet tender as she helps me stand upright.
"Are you okay? Talk to me, Travis." Her voice breaks with genuine fear. "I didn't mean to… I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"
I manage a nod between coughs, secretly thrilled by her concern. The way her hands keep touching me, checking for damage, is easily worth the burning in my chest.
"We need to get you home," she decides, her arm wrapping protectively around my waist. "Right now."
"I'm fine," I rasp, leaning heavily against her even though I don't need to. "Just went down the wrong way."
"No, you're not fine," Kayla insists, her voice soft but firm. She turns to the stunned onlookers, her expression hardening. "We're leaving."
Autumn steps forward, her tough-girl facade completely evaporated now. "You two alright?" she asks, eyebrows knitted together in what seems like genuine concern.
My head spins from the combination of beer and oxygen deprivation. The world tilts pleasantly as I flash Autumn a sloppy grin and give her an exaggerated thumbs-up.
"Mission accomplished," I slur, leaning even more heavily against Kayla's sturdy frame. My shirt is soaked through with beer, clinging to my chest in a way that would normally make Kayla lecture me about modesty.
Autumn's eyes dart between us, confusion and worry etched across her face. "I don't know how that would be possible," she says slowly, taking another hesitant step forward like she's approaching a wild animal.
"Sorry," Kayla cuts in, her arm tightening around my waist. "My brother just came down with something. I'm going to take him home." Her voice is clipped, professional, but I can feel the slight tremor in her fingers where they press against my side.
"Do you need help?" Autumn offers, reaching out as if to steady me from the other side.
Kayla's reaction is immediate and visceral. She shifts her body, subtly but unmistakably placing herself between me and Autumn. "We're fine," she says, her tone leaving no room for argument.
I let my head loll against Kayla's shoulder, breathing in her scent, deodorant, sweat, and something uniquely her. "You smell so good," I murmur against her neck, feeling her whole body stiffen.
"He's completely wasted," Buzzcut Girl observes from her spot by the fire. "You sure you can handle him alone?"
"I've been handling him his entire life," Kayla snaps, already guiding me toward the car. "I think I can manage."